


Grief is the Price We Pay for Love

by spoopycorgi



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Depressed Spock (Star Trek), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Spock (Star Trek), Fluff, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Insecure Spock (Star Trek), M/M, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Spock Needs a Hug (Star Trek), and he gets one. From Jim, like a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopycorgi/pseuds/spoopycorgi
Summary: 4 years after the destruction of Vulcan, down to the day, and Spock isn't okay.  Jim notices, and he isn't about to just let his t'hy'la suffer.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 160





	Grief is the Price We Pay for Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this story! This is my very first story, so I am well aware that this is a mess. This story does mention depression and self-deprecating thoughts, so read with caution!

Everything felt numb. Like he was falling, spiraling down, down, down. Nothing felt the same. He couldn’t focus like he had been able to the weeks prior. His productivity levels had been down 14.36% when he could no longer keep track of the percentage. Spock was sitting at his science station on the bridge. They were back aboard the _Enterprise_ , and thanks to Scotty’s work, it was humming along seamlessly. 

The memories of Altamid still plagued Spock’s mind. He had shielded them from Jim so he couldn’t see them through the bond, but as he progressed, it was proving difficult. His injury from the planet ached too. It still bled sometimes, like if he moved in such a way that pulled at it too hard. As of late, he had been wrapping it with some gauze that was in his and Jim’s quarters so if it bled, no one would see the blood seeping through his shirt.

But Altamid wasn’t what was bothering Spock. It was Vulcan. It was his mother. The millions of lives that were lost today, only it had happed 4 years ago. But it still hurt. The wound was still raw. His father had even been bothered by Spock’s grief. So much so that he had severed the bond between them, tired of the emotions coming from Spock. Tired of Spock.

There was nothing chaotic happening on the bridge, it was a normal day in transit. Just watching the blur of the stars pass the viewscreen as they warped to their next destination, every now and then the Capitan’s communicator would beep, but it was just Scotty, saying everything was going well down in Engineering or asking how Spock had managed to get into the computer and shut off Jayla’s music as he had a few weeks ago when Scotty had asked him to.

The pain of his injury was starting to affect him. His side ached and every now and then a shot of pain went through him. It would be logical to go to the Medbay, however, he did not want to bother Dr. McCoy. That seemed like all he ever did to anyone lately. Bother them.

At 17:00 hours, Jim announced, “Alright, that’s a wrap!”

As if trained to do so, everyone started shutting down PADDs and stations, getting up, and leaving. People came up to one another as they left and turned in reports. Spock began shutting down his own station, moving carefully and delicately as not to jostle his wound, but swiftly enough that nobody would notice how much pain it caused him as he did or that his movements had been more sluggish than usual lately.

Everybody cleared out of the bridge and the rest of the crew filled the halls as they headed to rec rooms or the cafeteria. The quiet beeping of monitors and the hum of the engines was all that was left on the bridge. Jim sat quietly as he finished up has reports and Spock finished up with shutting down his station. He pulled out a PADD and check it. He had finished all his reports last week. A fact for which he was grateful as he no longer had to do those in his current state of mind. He most likely would not have finished them in a timely manner, or at all.

Spock zoned out for a couple of minutes as he looked at him PADD, trying to make sense of the letter that was now blurring. His memories had been making it near impossible to sleep. All he could hear was the crumbling of rocks and the screams of his mother as she fell into oblivion. On the rare occasion that he had fallen asleep, every moment was infected with nightmares. He had fallen back on meditation for rest, but now, that too was failing.

All the nightmares, and his thoughts, and the sleep deprivation was coming to together. He felt fatigued all the time and dizzy when he walked or stood. He wasn’t hungry, he couldn’t clearly remember the last time he ate. About a week and a half ago seemed about right, but he wasn’t sure. Spock felt something warm rest on his shoulder and it snapped him out of his haze.

He spun around in his chair with such speed that, as Jim often said when he stood up too fast, it felt like the room was spinning. He looked up to see Jim, his hand recoiled slightly from the shock but overall, he was relaxed. Spock looked up at Jim. Jim’s own eyes meeting his. His eyes had never failed to fascinate him. They looked like the Terran ocean on a sunny day, a beautiful azure.

“Can I assist you Captian?” Spock asked, as stoic as possible. He immediately regretted what he had just said. It was highly illogical. Not only were they off duty but Jim had asked him approximately 132 times for him not to address him by “Capitan” unless absolutely necessary.

Jim’s eyebrows knitted slightly with concern as he looked at his love, “Are you okay? You seemed kind of off today.”

Of course, Jim would notice. He always does. Even the smallest of shifts in Spock, and he noticed. He could see every emotion in Spock, even when his mouth just twitched the slightest of bits, he could see it.

“I am fine,” Spock assured. He hated the way the words seemed to melt together, ever so slightly.

“Mmh,” Jim murmured as he held out his hands. He had done this action many times before, he wanted Spock to take them. Spock reached out, to do so, his own hands quivered from the exhaustion as he did. A warm rush of affection came from Jim and his side of the bond, making Spock feel somewhat fluttery.

Without warning, Jim pulled Spock up and forward. Spock fell into Jim, who caught him and pulled Spock close. Spock nuzzled his face into the crook of Jim’s neck. He was warm and smelled like coffee and vanilla, Spock reasoned that it was due to the coffee he drank every morning. But he still smelled like it.

“You don’t seem all that fine to me,” Jim whispered gently.

“Your scent is very pleasurable Ashaya,” Spock hummed. 

Jim laughed gently, “When was the last time you ate? You kinda had just disappeared by the time I woke up this morning.” 

Jim loosened his grip on the hug slightly and lifted Spock’s chin up slightly to look at his face. Both Spock’s rich, chocolate brown eyes looked confused and there were slight shadows under them.

“Or slept for that matter?” he asked, his tone full of love. Spock’s eyes flicked down, avoiding Jim’s. Stop now. _You’ll only bother him_ , the voice in Spock’s head whispered.

 _It’s your fault she’s dead. It’s your fault he died. It’s your fault Sarek severed the bond. Don’t drag him into your mess_ , it warned.

So Spock stayed quiet. Jim’s hand left his chin and wrapped around his waist, “Would you rather talk about it in our quarters?”

Spock nodded slightly. He didn’t want to risk talking, only for his voice to crack under the weight of the depression in his mind. Jim pressed Spock to his chest, planting a kiss on in his raven black hair.

“Then let’s go,” Jim whispered, loosening his grip until the embrace fell away. He took a few steps back to give Spock some space. The pair walked to the lift, Jim in front and Spock straggling behind him. The lift doors shut as Jim pressed the buttons to take them to the deck with their quarters. Spock stood quietly in the lift, barely able to keep his eyes open and covering his wound with his hand. I was aching horribly. Jim was talking to him, his voice was chipper and his eyes bright. While Spock was having difficultly following along with what he was saying, it was something about the planet they were currently warping to. Spock loved it when Jim talked.

He loved the sound of his voice, he found it very calming. He also loved it when he talked about something he loved. His whole body was animated if he did it while standing he would jerk around, depicting the scene, if he was sitting he would fidget, and if he was walking he would jump around all over the place.

The lift came to a stop and the doors opened. The stepped out of the lift and walked to their room. Spock’s movements were not executed with the same grace as usual and he felt unbalanced, the dizziness taking over. He tried to focus as much as he could on walking, he was already acting in such a way that was shameful to Vulcan, he did not need more reason to deserve the ridicule he already got.

So he focused, putting one foot in front of the other and alternating. Over and over. Right foot in front of his left and then left in front of his right. The focus made his headache worse, and he was faltering in his steps. How much of a failure did he have to be to mess up _walking_? He couldn’t focus on it anymore. There were no other crewmembers in the hall, but Spock still found his lack of control humiliating.

He tried to take another step when his right foot hooked across his left ankle and he tripped. But he didn’t fall. Jim caught him in his arms, and looked at him, his eyes full of love and concern, “You alright?”

“Yes,” Spock said quietly.

Jim smiled and kissed him on the forehead, “Okay.”

Spock pulled himself up, only to have his knees give out on him and fall back into Jim.

“Cmon’, let’s get you home,” Jim said warmly.

Jim wrapped his arm around Spock’s back and pulled him up from under his knees. 

Carrying him bridal style to their room, Jim began talking to Spock, “Sweetheart, honestly, when was the last time you slept?”

“3 months ago,” Spock said softly.

“What about the last time you ate?”

“I... I do not know.”

“And the last time you meditated?” Jim asked, this time his voice hitched slightly with concern. Spock went quiet. He didn’t want to make Jim concerned. He thought that he quite frankly didn’t deserve Jim. Like it was the same thing that had happened with Uhura. He couldn’t provide for her emotionally. He couldn’t provide for Jim like that either.

“Spock. Please,” Jim pressed.

“2 weeks ago” Spock muttered.

Jim keyed in the code for their room, opening the door. He slid off his own boots and walked into the room, “2 weeks?”

Spock nodded gently. Jim sent Spock down gently and started taking his shoes off before Spock even had the chance to sit up. He went to sent them down next to his by the door and turned the heat up to Vulcan standard. Jim turned around and went back to Spock. He stripped himself of his shirt and threw it on a chair. He wrapped his arms around him and move Spock into his lap.

Jim pressed a gentle kiss to Spock’s lips, “Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t sleep?”

“I did not find bothering you with such a matter to be desirable nor logical.”

“Baby, you’re not bothering me by telling me that you need help.”

Spock went quiet. Jim stroked his hair, it wasn’t noticeable to most people, but it wasn’t as neat as usual. 

Jim moved his hand and rubbed circles on Spock’s cheek with his thumb, “I know you’ve been thinking about her. Your mom. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Spock rasped, the mentioning of his mother making him feel as if he was going to cry. A ragged breath cut through Spock as he shut his eyes, trying to suppress the oncoming rush of tears. Jim laid down with Spock and pulled him close. 

Jim whispered into a pointed ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

With that, Spock broke. Tears cut tracks down his face. His sobs were heartbreaking, and Jim knew that where they came from, Spock was still just a child, looking for acceptance and losing the only person who ever gave him that acceptance as a child. 

Spock nuzzled himself against Jim as much he could, and Jim hugged him back, as tightly as he could. The sobs wracking his body made him nauseous and made his wound hurt worse. Spock cried until it made him sick, and then Jim carried him to the bathroom so he could throw up. He cried until he physically couldn’t do it anymore and he just cuddled up against Jim as they sat on the bathroom floor.

“It’s okay babe, it’s okay,” Jim soothed. 

“I am sorry, Jim,” Spock rasped.

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“Wasting your time. And wasting hers.” 

Jim pushed Spock so he could see his face, “Spock. Don’t think for a second that you’re wasting my time. And definitely don’t think that raising you was a waste of your mother’s time.”

Spock looked at Jim, eyes wide and they looked as if nobody had ever told him something like that before. 

Jim shook his head, “If she were still here, do know what I would do?”

“No,” Spock replied, confused.

“I tell her what a great son she’s raised. And that I want to thank her for everything she’s done. Because if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be here, and if it weren’t for you, I can guarantee, this whole damn crew would be dead,” Jim panted as he finished his rant.

There were a few seconds of silence before Jim started talking again, “You are not a bother. You are not a failure. Maybe you’re not perfect, but none of us are, nothing is. She loved you with all her being Spock. And so do I.”

Spock looked at Jim in his eyes. Beautiful, azure...perfect. Spock hugged Jim and as he hugged him back, Spock melted into Jim’s touch.

“Cmon’ babe, let’s get you out of these clothes and rewrap your wound,” Jim whispered.

Jim wrapped Spock’s legs around him, stood up, and got to it. 

\--------

About half an hour later, the two snuggled into bed with one another. Jim gently kissed Spock’s neck up to his cheeks. He placed a kiss on his lips and looked into his t’hy’la’s big brown eyes.

“I love you, Spock. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you as well Jim.”

“Now go to sleep. You need it, babe,” Jim said lovingly as he stroked Spock’s hair.

“Okay,” Spock responded.

“Okay,” Jim answered, hugging Spock tight as they both drifted off to the gentle whisper of sleep. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
